by Richard LeDue.
Stepping out of the summer sun
into an air-conditioned liquor store-
the coolness sharper
than the cheap whisky I usually bought
(they were sold out of it),
only to be the last one to realize
my shoelace was untied,
and as I talked to myself,
reading over wine prices and countries
of origins, the cashier and her friend,
who had been chatting,
went quiet,
making the jingle of the beer
I settled on
accentuate the awkward silence
they made me feel like I belonged
in without even needing to ask.